


My Lord, My Husband

by sarahyellow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyellow/pseuds/sarahyellow
Summary: Freshly returned from war, Lord James Barnes must marry his betrothed, Lord Steven Rogers. Then he must take him to bed.Medieval wedding night porn, featuring blushing Virgin!Steve and war-weary Knight!Bucky





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Steve is 17 in this where Bucky is meant to be older. It's barely underage, but if it bothers you, avoid reading.

“Lord Barnes, welcome home Sire.”

James managed a tired smile for his housekeeper as he pushed open the carriage’s heavy door and stepped down. It hadn’t been a pleasant journey back, bumping along the country roads with his injuries as they were, but it’d been a far sight more pleasant than riding upon his horse would have been. James couldn’t exactly remember the last time he’d had the luxury of riding in a carriage. Years, at least. He stepped down onto the gravel of his estate’s courtyard and nodded at the line of staff that’d gathered to welcome him back. Most of the faces had changed. The housekeeper—a grizzled old man who held himself tall, was one of the few whom James found he still recognized. “It’s good to be home,” he said. He made his way inside the manor, feeling nostalgic at the dark stone and wood of the house. Never had he felt so happy to be closed up in a castle’s dimness as he was just then. Years of war on bright, sunny battlefields would do that to a man though, he supposed. “Prepare a bath,” he told an attendant standing nearby. James was not unaware of his stink, and he yearned to shed his clothes for something freshly-laundered. 

“Right away,” the servant said, and hurried off to do just that. 

Sighing, James made his way up to his rooms. He removed his clothing and tossed each item to the floor with little care. They would be taken away soon, he knew, either washed or thrown away, depending on how well the blood came out. When a knock sounded on his chamber doors he knew this meant the bath was ready. He went into the next room and nearly sighed at the sight of steaming water rising from the copper basin. “Fuck, a proper bath.”

The servant waiting to attend him chuckled, and James glanced his way with a smirk. James was naked, but unconcerned for his modesty. Life in tents with men who could give a fuck for pleasantries had long since robbed him of such worries. He climbed into the basin and hissed only the barest amount as the water made contact with his still-smarting wounds. The worst of it was long-healed, thank god. His arm had been a wrecked mess, and he’d had to remain a guest of another lord for long months before he’d been fit enough to travel home. But a newer gash from a recent fall from his horse was still mending, and the sewed-together flesh stung as it met the bathwater. “Fuck,” he grunted.

“My Lord?” the servant asked, taking a step nearer in concern. James waved him away.

“It’s nothing. A minor injury.” Minor was relative. James knew his judgement was askew from his previous encounters in battle. But, he reasoned, he’d live. If infection set in he had a very capable physician at hand. “What pressing matters await?” he asked instead, for he knew that soon all of the business that his stewards had fumbled over in his absence would present itself. A brief bath might be all the rest he would be afforded, before the chaos of domestic life set in again. It was a nuisance, but a necessary one for a lord such as he. James reigned over no small amount of land. He’d gripe about it, no doubt, but the truth of the matter was that he’d take domestic nuisances over battle any day. He wouldn’t have said so years ago, but now… well now he’d had a taste for war, and he found it odious.

“Taxes,” the servant said right away. “Harvests have been good this season so we don’t expect much trouble once collections start.”

James hummed, closing his eyes but still listening. “Good.” There had been years in his youth where he’d had to watch his father take money from people who simply didn’t have it, and it wasn’t a fond memory of his. He wasn’t in the mood to be vilified by his own people so soon from his return. Hearing that things for the common folk had gone well during his absence made him feel better. “What else?”

The servant cleared his throat. “Preparations for the wedding are complete. The Lord Rogers arrived a fortnight ago.”

That made James tense. But he nodded and didn’t open his eyes. “I pity him,” he said wryly. “I’ll hardly make a fitting bridegroom by tomorrow noon.”

“Rest, my Lord. It will do you a world of good.”

James made some noise of agreement in his throat. He wished he could sleep for a month before he had to get on with marrying this boy. But alas, he had little choice in the matter. The marriage had been decided on over a year before. He could remember signing the contract in his tent on the battlefield. He’d given it minimal thought at the time, as more pressing matters had been at hand. But it’d been an advantageous match then and it was still now. James was nobility; at no point in his life had he ever entertained a fantasy of marrying for love. He had no qualms about marrying the boy. He just wished he could sleep longer first. 

.oOo.

“Did he say anything else?” Steven asked hopefully, watching the Lord Barnes’ messenger with no small amount of anxiety. At Steven’s side, one of his own attendants was busy straightening his coat.

“No, my Lord.” The servant looked uncomfortable, which in turn made Steven uncomfortable. He’d heard stories of how handsome his husband-to-be was. He’d hoped the man would have a personality to match. That he’d come and make some attempt to forge a familiarity before they had to stand at the altar and exchange their vows. The servant stepped forward and extended his hand. In it, he held a small box. “A ring for you to present to him,” he said. “At this afternoon’s ceremony.”

Steven took it, not bothering to open the box. “Thank you,” he said, moving to tuck it into his pocket.

“My Lord!” Rumlow scolded, reaching to snatch the box away. “Put nothing in your pockets. Today of all days.” He huffed. “Honestly.”

Steven’s lips quirked. “Sorry Brock. His long-time manservant and unofficial governor was always fighting to get him to present himself correctly. An orphan lord of a rural estate, Steven had had a relaxed upbringing, and therefore often forgot to follow rules of propriety. “I’ll keep myself handsome, with your help,” he teased.

Brock just huffed. “We’ll see.”

Steven looked back over to Lord Barnes’ messenger. “Will he come to talk with me? Before?” 

“I think not, young master.” The servant seemed sorry, if his face was anything to go by. “He only just returned yesterday. A man as battle-weary as him requires rest.”

Steven frowned but nodded. “Of course.”

The man nodded, offering a short bow and turning to leave the chambers that Steven had been given for his stay at the manor. Steven watched him go, worry etched onto his face. “I’d hoped…” he started, wavering off.

“Best not to hope too much, little lord,” Rumlow murmured, standing from his task of arranging his fine clothes. “It’s a good match and he isn’t cruel, as far as rumors tell.” He placed a comforting hand on Steven’s shoulder. “Find your happiness elsewhere if need be.”

Steven glanced peevishly at Brock. “Fine advice, mere hours before a man’s marriage.”

Brock just shrugged. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Steven sighed. “I suppose not.” He ached to take a drink, or two or five, from the pitcher of wine that he knew sat in the very next room of his apartments, but he also knew that Brock would take away any cup he tried to pour and tell him that ‘getting drunk was for after the vows’. So Steven didn’t bother. He just went and sat to listen to the other useful marriage advice his steward would undoubtedly have.

.oOo.

The marriage ceremony was short, as far as some other weddings went. Perfunctory. But the castle’s church was filled full with guests and adornments as was fitting for a wedding of high nobility. The music was cultured and the two grooms were dressed nearly as finely as the priest. Steven stood at the altar as the priest spoke to them, hardly daring to glance sideways at his husband until they were required to turn and face one another. Steven felt his breath catch a bit when he did. The man was every bit as handsome as people had said. He was taller than Steven, with broad shoulders and dark hair that was long enough to be tied back. He had a stern set to his face. Steven found himself wishing that the man would smile, but it never happened the whole ceremony. In truth, Lord Barnes seemed tired, and perhaps eager to have the whole affair done with. Steven forced himself to remain calm and recite the words required of him, trying not to read too much into his husband’s demeanor. It would get better, he reasoned, once the pomp and circumstance was over with.

-

It did not get better. A wedding feast had been prepared, but James only remained at Steven’s side long enough for the actual meal to be served and consumed, and then he was off across the hall to talk with a group of men whom Steven could only assume were his old friends. Steven watched the men with an air of jealousy. He’d tried to take Brock’s words to heart, to not hope for too much, but was it really so much to ask that his husband of less than an hour remain at his side and talk for a bit before they retired to share a bed? Steven huffed and sat back in his chair, snatching up his cup of wine as he watched the Lord Barnes talk and smile with his friends. Steven thought he might drink as much as he could, and then perhaps retire from the hall if he was ignored for much longer. One glance over to Brock, who gave him a smirk and a shrug, confirmed that that might indeed be the best course of action. Steven scowled and drained the last of his drink, then gestured for an attendant to fill his cup again.

-

James couldn’t say he was entirely sober when he made his way up the stairs of the castle and down to his chambers. He hadn’t overindulged, but the warmth in his veins told him that he was probably at least a little drunk. He might’ve felt bad about it but a vicious voice in his head told him that it was his right. He’d done his duty.

Well, almost.

He opened and closed the chamber doors, only glancing over to the bed once he’d removed his coat and slung it over a chair. There sat his husband, he saw. The boy— _man_ , he tried to correct himself. His new husband might’ve been young and small but James knew full well that seventeen was no child—sat on the edge of the bed, turning something unseen over in his hands. He was already dressed for bed, his nightshirt thin and near-translucent on his body. James wondered privately what person had given him such an indecent garment to wear. He nodded at him as he approached. “You had your fill at dinner?” he asked.

Steven looked up at him, eyes wide. He was obviously nervous. “Yes,” he said. He had a deep voice, deeper than James expected from one as slight as him. He didn’t sound nearly as delicate as he looked. “I thought it best to retire on my own. You seemed occupied.” He turned the thing in his hands again, fidgeting.

“What do you have there?” James asked. Steven opened his hand, glancing up nervously as he showed his husband what he held. He could hear how James’ breath caught in his throat. “Who gave you that?” James asked him, surprised to see his blushing husband holding a tiny pot of oil as if he knew what it was for. James knew full well what it would be for. He just hadn’t expected his new husband to be… prepared. In all honesty that was one of the reasons he’d avoided him so at the banquet. James didn’t relish the idea of having to listen to some squalling virgin cry as he took them for the first time. He wasn’t in the mood.

“Well?” he asked again, voice not exactly patient. When the boy merely drew into himself and James received no answer, he huffed and turned away to undress. He took off his shirt and dropped it down, hands going down to the laces of his pants. “You had wine?” he asked brusquely. A glance over his shoulder showed the boy to be frowning, but he nodded. James grunted his approval of that. It would be better then. Shucking his pants down his legs, and then his underthings, he turned and made his way over to the bed. Standing before Steven, he couldn’t help the way his eyes trailed over the boy’s body. He was attractive. Not like James was; not rough or big, but he had a beauty to him that James found he appreciated. It wouldn’t be unpleasant to touch him. He reached forward and did just that, trailing his fingers over the fabric of his nightshirt. The boy shuddered, eyes clearly fixed on the sight of James’ naked sex. “Have you lain with a man before?” James asked him, trying to keep his voice soft. No sense in scaring the boy now.

“No,” Steven said, clearly shy.

“Hm. Thought so.”

“But my governor told me what to expect,” Steven added, sounding like he was trying to be brave. It only made James snort.

“Governor? Christ, you’re a child.”

At this, Steven’s eyes shot up, stern and perhaps the tiniest bit affronted. “I’m not,” he asserted, stiffening his posture where he sat on the bed.

James sobered, lifting his chin as he regarded the boy. “Fine,” he said. If his young husband didn’t need accolades, then James wouldn’t offer them. He’d honestly had too much to drink to be very tender anyway. He sat himself down on the bed and moved to pull the boy with him. “Come here then,” he husked, hands gripping Steven’s waist and hauling him into the middle of the bed. Steven gasped but didn’t fight him. He merely lay back and watched as James made to pull off his nightshirt. 

Once James had him naked, he could see that the boy was unaffected. His cock lay soft against his thigh. James sighed, reaching to place his hand atop it. Steven tensed, stomach tightening in apprehension, but James just shushed him. “Calm,” he said, pressing lightly on his prick. It twitched once under his hand and that gave James hope that he could make him enjoy this. He allowed his fingers to curl around him, moving his hand the barest bit. “Open that jar of yours,” he told him. “Get some on your fingers.”

Steven shivered beneath him but he listened, grabbing the oil from where he’d dropped it in the covers and opening it to slick his fingers. “What now?” he breathed.

“What do you think?” James huffed. “Touch yourself.” He removed his hand and reached to take some oil for himself, slicking his fingers and reaching down to grab his own cock, which was only just barely beginning to take interest. A few coaxing pulls firmed him up quickly, and he allowed his eyes to rake over the form of his husband, spread on his bed and bared fully to him. Steven shrank under his scrutiny but James didn’t let that sway him from his heated perusal. The boy had a lithe, thin form, with pale skin and delicate nipples. James would’ve been lying to say that he didn’t want to have him. He’d be so easy to move, he thought, to guide him exactly how he wanted him. To take him would be nothing.

“Husband?” Steven asked, questioning. He was touching himself as he’d been instructed, and though he still seemed nervous, his prick had firmed in his grasp, pink head peeking through his fingers as he fisted himself. “What will you do?” he breathed.

James huffed. Releasing his cock, he bent down to cover his husband’s body with his own. He was so small beneath him, small but warm. James was careful not to crush him as he settled between his legs. Steven parted them obediently, hands coming up to rest on his back. This made James wonder if the boy had been given a talking to, perhaps by his governor, about obedience in the bedroom. The thought did not please him, but he pushed it away. Instead, he bent down and crushed their mouths together, giving Steven little time to adjust. He could feel the boy’s whimper into it, and James trailed his hand down to his cock to distract him. Steven’s hips jolted against his as James thumbed over the head of his cock. “There,” he husked, pulled away from the kiss and breathing down on him. “You’ll relax for me, yes?”

Steven shivered, though not from any lack of heat. “I will try, my Lord.”

James grunted, taken aback at the way it sounded to be addressed so. “Don’t call me that,” he scolded, ignoring the way his tone made the boy’s features pinch. “We’re married now. Use my name.”

Steven’s eyes widened just the barest bit, before he relaxed beneath him. “James,” he said carefully, as if testing the sound of it out.

James grunted in assent, then reached further down between the boy’s legs, oiled fingers seeking out his entrance. Steven tensed once again, breath coming heavier at the feeling of James’ fingers against his hole. “Relax,” James told him again, none too patient. Thankfully, after a few seconds his husband seemed to unclench, taking the order to heart. “There you go,” James praised, rubbing over him gently. “Don’t fight it and it won’t hurt.”

Steven whined, hips pressing up as James’ first finger breached him. “You promise?”

James paused, glancing to his face to see the pleading expression there. His heart constricted in sympathy for the briefest moment. The boy really hadn’t ever done this before, perhaps never having even touched himself this way. “Yes,” James said, having to fight the urge to kiss him again. “I won’t hurt you.” He refocused his attention on where he had his hand, moving his finger gently within the boy and paying attention to how he tightened and relaxed around the intrusion, how his breathing quickened and stilled as he felt this new touch. “There you go,” James murmured, gentling him with just the one finger for a long time before daring to breach him with another. 

Steven whimpered at this but he did nothing to escape the touch. He canted his hips closer, rubbing his cock along James’ stomach and moaning a little when the fingers within him brushed something good. “Oh,” he breathed, eyes closing. “What…”

“Shh.” James stroked him in the same motion, watching the pinch of pleasure bloom over his husband’s face for the first time. “That’s it,” he soothed, thrusting his fingers within him until he could feel the muscle of the boy’s entrance relax even further. “Good,” he praised him, removing his hand. “Good boy.”

Steven blushed heartily at that, color pinking his cheeks faster than James would’ve thought possible. He ignored it, reaching to dip his fingers in the oil once more. He pressed them into Steven’s body, then reached to slick his own cock as he guided it to his entrance. “Bear down,” he instructed him quietly. “And breathe.”

Steven’s eyes opened, and though he looked fearful he did follow the instruction, exhaling warmly into the space between them and pushing against James as he breached him. His features crumpled at the first feeling of his cock entering him, lips parting around a gasp. “Oh!”

“Shh,” James soothed, cock sinking in fully and breath leaving him in a huff at the feeling of it. “Oh, fuck.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to rest against the boy’s shoulder. It’d been a while since he’d done this, since he’d been inside someone’s body. He’d nearly forgotten how wonderful it could feel. And his young husband was virgin tight, unlike any battlefield whore whose company he’d paid for. At his back, he could feel Steven’s fingers clutching him fiercely. He was trembling. “It’s okay,” James told him, breathless but forcing himself to not move, to keep his hips still. “When you’re ready,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. “Only when you’re ready.”

Steven whimpered, but with more kisses placed onto his skin and gentle pulses of James’ hips, those whimpers soon morphed into sighs. His legs came up, better-cradling James between them. When Steven’s lips could be felt placing a careful kiss against his hair, James raised his head in surprise. Steven was looking up at him with a lustful expression. “Now,” he told him quietly. “Make me yours.”

James exhaled, feeling arousal flood through him stronger than before at the boy’s words and at the look of wanting on his face. He bent to lock their mouths together once more as he pulled his hips back and began to rock into his husband in a slow but steady pace. The feeling of Steven’s groan into their kiss made his pulse race, his blood thrumming hot beneath his skin. He thrust into him, tightening his hold on the boy as he gave over to the pleasure of being inside him and took his fill of his body.

Steven whined and cried out as they moved, but the sounds were of pleasure, not fear and certainly not of pain. James pressed his face into the crook of the boy’s neck and fucked him, rougher than he should have, perhaps, but he compensated for it by reaching down to fist his leaking erection. “Ugh!” Steven grunted, moving his body with James’ and wrapping his legs around him. If it bothered him at all how roughly James was now starting to fuck him, he said nothing. He just panted against him as James held their bodies tightly together and rutted in him in search of his release. 

James came first, body coiling tight with impending release and stuttering without coordination as his pleasure crested, spilling out of him in long, desperate pulses. He ground Steven’s small body down into the bed as he grunted his release. When he came down from it and felt how still the boy was beneath him, he swore and pulled away. 

Steven hissed at the feeling of James’ cock leaving him, hole clenching down on nothing. He grit his teeth at the sensation, whining in displeasure. Above him, James huffed and chuckled. His big hand came down and wrapped around him, calloused fingers working him in quick order to find his release. Soon Steven was gasping and crying out as he spilled, hot and wet, over James’ fingers. “Oh! Oh god.”

James let go of him and pressed his cock against his belly, smearing the wetness there. He bent to kiss him, brief and panting into it from his own exertion. “Fuck,” Steven cursed, the sound of it breathy and light between their mouths. “Fuck.”

James laughed at the boy’s cursing but couldn’t bring himself to say anything in reply. He only dropped himself to the side of Steven’s body, out of breath and sated in a way he hadn’t been in so long. Beside him, his husband was obviously still learning how to regain his breath, and James hauled him in against his side, closing his eyes with absolutely no intention of doing anything else besides falling asleep. “Pull the covers over us once you’ve…” he grunted, trailing off since he was still recovering from the exertion of their sex. “…Keep us… warm.” 

If Steven had the inclination to say anything back to him moments or an hour later, James wouldn’t have known. He was fast to fall asleep.


	2. chapter 2

James woke up to the feeling of movement. He peeked an eye open and saw that Steven was carefully uncovering himself and moving towards the edge of the bed. James hummed. “Where are you going?”

The muscles in Steven’s slight back tensed as he froze. Sheepishly, he looked over his shoulder at him. “I… was just going to the privy.”

James grunted in assent. He himself had to go but he didn’t want to make himself get out of the bed. Not yet. He was terribly tired still, and his head was tender from the amount of drink he’d had the night before. “Go on then,” he told him. Steven moved off the bed and stood. James kept his eyes open only so that he could appreciate his husband’s naked body. He was thin, but whatever pursuits he enjoyed in his free time were seemingly enough to give him what little strength and muscle his slight form could accommodate. James’ eyes roved over his arms, his back, his backside. It was a… pleasing sight. 

As he moved across the room, Steven’s steps were stilted and stiff. His breath came sharp, just once, when he neared the door to the privy, but he settled himself and went through. James frowned, realizing that his husband must be sore from their night together. He watched as Steven shut the door, disappearing from view. James turned over where he lay and stared at the wall, thinking of the night before. Steven had been nervous, but he’d tried to be brave, had let James have him with no complaint. He’d trusted his husband. James felt a wave of guilt come upon him. He’d fucked him with vigor, that much was true. He’d excused the rough pace by making sure he brought Steven off, but that didn’t change the fact that it’d been the boy’s first time. James knew he should have been more delicate with him, should have taken more care, more time. The knowledge that he’d been drunk and careless didn’t sit well with him, and a moment later he felt bad enough about how rough he’d been that he got out of bed and hurriedly dressed himself. He shucked on his boots last and left the room before Steven could return, sure that he didn’t want to face him. 

.oOo.

When Steven returned from the privy, he found the bed empty, sheets thrown back and James’ clothes gone from the floor. He frowned, looking down at his bare feet in embarrassment. But of course his husband wouldn’t want to stay any longer than he had to. Steven had probably been a great disappointment to the man. He was small and inexperienced, had been a ball of nerves the night before. His husband had probably wished to do his duty and then have it all be over with. Steven wondered if he’d be requested to take to his own bedroom in the future. Many spouses did, he knew. Just like Rumlow had said; husbands often resorted to finding their happiness elsewhere. Perhaps his husband would take a lover soon, and they would touch no longer. 

The idea should have been a relief to Steven, as he was sore from the night before and unsure if that would always be the case when James had him. But he didn’t feel relief at the prospect of being shut out from his husband’s heart and bedroom. Instead the idea made him feel sad and not only a little dejected. He’d hoped that he could prove a pleasure to the man, and perhaps in time that they could grow to care for one another…

Clearly, that was not what Lord James desired, as he was already dressed and gone from their chambers. Sighing, Steven went to don his night shirt and dressing gown, figuring that he best return to his own chambers and dress for the day. His first day as a married man.

.oOo.

James spent the day avoiding just about every responsibility that he could. He went riding alone, which was something a man of his stature was never supposed to do. But he didn’t care. He needed time to escape, to think, and so he stole his horse away without informing any of his stewards and headed for the forest. He rode slowly, mindful of his wounds, but on the way back the horse spooked and James was forced into a rapid gallop. He reigned the horse in but by that point the exertion had already forced his stitches apart. James could feel the wetness of blood seeping into the fabric of his shirt, and a glance down to his side showed it to be true. He hissed, even more annoyed than he had been before. So much for finding an escape from his troubles.

Upon his return he arranged for a bath. The sun was already set past the horizon, darkness steadily creeping in, so James was both surprised and relieved to find his apartments empty. He stripped without care and sunk into the hot water with a pained hiss, shooing the servant away. A glance down showed no fresh blood seeping into the water, but the cut stung something fierce. The cut to his side might require new stitching by the next day, if his physician said so, but James had no intention of worrying about it now. He tipped his head back to rest against the edge of the tub. 

Despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to stop thinking of the night before, how he’d taken his new husband to bed, both of them filled to the brim with too much wine, and how he’d been careless with him. By now James had played the memory over in his mind enough times to feel quite certain that he’d been too rough with the boy. He’d taken him no better than he’d ever taken any other courtier or whore, not having attended to his pleasure or peace of mind at all. 

The thought made James cringe. He’d been a virgin once himself, after all. Only he had had a patient and willing teacher. James couldn’t for the life of him remember ever having limped or winced after a night of lovemaking. He frowned, staring at the steam that rose from the water. That was the difference, he supposed. He hadn’t made love to his new husband. He’d fucked him, and without care at that. Shame and guilt burned in his gut at the thought. Grumpily, he reached out for the goblet of wine he’d had his servant pour for him. 

What would he do to make it up to him? Was there anything he _could_ do at this point? James huffed. Likely, he’d put his husband off him forever. Maybe there was nothing for it. He dreaded the moment when he would see Steven again. Idly, he sipped his wine and wondered if the boy would come to their bed that night. Probably not. He’d probably stay away, afraid of being ravaged again. Scowling, James drank more of his wine. This was what he’d become; the scarred, unpleasant husband that scared away virgins. No wonder the boy didn’t want him. James hoped his husband would at least be able to find comfort elsewhere, perhaps take a lover someday. James tried to promise himself that he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t as if he and his new husband would have any need to beget an heir. They could retreat to their own beds, and when the time came to adopt a child James would try to give Steven’s opinion some weight on the matter.

A soft knock came at the door. James tipped his head to the side but didn’t bother turning all the way around to see who it was, as it was almost certainly a servant. “Come in,” he said, careless but loud enough to be heard. When the door could be heard opening and then closing again, James asked, “What is it?” 

A long pause, and then, “I came to see if you were okay. …And to ask if you wanted me here.”

James tensed, realizing that it wasn’t any attendant come to see if he required anything, but rather his young husband. Carefully, he tipped his eyes over his shoulder. He could just catch sight of Steven’s form before the movement of twisting around made him hiss and wince and turn back around in the water.

“Husband?” Steven’s voice was worried. He sounded hesitant still, but he came forward and knelt behind the bath, fingers curling over the edge of the basin near James’ shoulders. “Are you alright?”

James didn’t bother to temper his grimace of pain since he wasn’t facing Steven. He could feel him there though, at his back. Huffing in frustration of the pain, he took another gulp from his glass. “I’m fine,” he said.

“…The stewards said you were hurt,” Steven said warily. His voice was very quiet. “Thomas said your clothes—they had blood on them.”

“Did he now?” James snapped. He had no idea who ‘Thomas’ was, but he wished he did so that he could tell him off for jabbering to his husband about such things. “I’m fine,” he repeated, voice still sullen but perhaps a bit more resigned. “You don’t need to worry about me.” For a long moment, Steven said nothing. James could just imagine him back there, biting his lip or twisting his fingers and worrying what to say or do. He figured he’d save him the trouble. “You may leave,” he said. “I won’t require you to stay with me at night.” The last part was hard to say, but he wanted to do the boy a kindness and let him know that he wouldn’t be forced to share his bed anymore if he didn’t desire to.

Still, Steven made no move to get up. He stayed where he was, breathing silently behind where James could not see. His hands, small things that they were, remained curled over the edges of the tub. “I—” he started, sounding unsure. “I would stay with you, my lord, if it would not offend you.”

James tensed, fingers gripping the wine glass more tightly. “I told you not to call me that,” he said. It came out sounding mean, which had not been his intention.

“James,” Steven corrected quickly. “I’d forgotten. Forgive me.”

James sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the basin. “You’ve nothing to be forgiven for, Steven. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Steven asked, voice a tad bit more assertive than it had been. “Why did you leave so suddenly this morning?”

“I—”

“Did I not please you?” Steven asked, too quick for James to say a word. “When we were together?”

“That’s not—”

“I can… I can learn.” Steven’s swallow was audible. “If there are things that you like, I can—”

“Will you shut up!” James snapped, sloshing the water a bit as he moved his legs in the water. Steven fell immediately quiet, no doubt convinced that James was displeased with him for speaking out so. In reality, James’ heart felt pinched from what his husband had just tried to say to him. James felt like a cad, and he supposed that might be because he was one. He sighed. “You are to my liking already, Steven,” he told him wearily. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Then why?” Steven’s words could be felt as a breath at the skin of James’ nape, and he realized with a lurch that the boy had moved even closer to him in the past moment. James shuddered.

“I was uncaring with you last night and the dawn brought regrets,” he said simply. 

“You…” Steven’s voice trailed off as he took in what James had said. “You felt bad? For me?”

“Yes. I should’ve been tender with you.”

“You were,” Steven insisted immediately. “You weren’t cruel to me.”

James scowled, though he knew Steven couldn’t see it from where he knelt behind. “You were hurt this morning. I saw it.” Steven got quiet again, not arguing that point, and James let the lack of a response cement the acrid sense of self-loathing he already harbored for the matter. “I’m sorry for that,” James said. “You’d never been with anyone. You had no way to know that you deserved better.” By now he was tired and was ready to be left alone to drink another cup of wine and fall asleep. “You may go,” he told him quietly. “I won’t expect you in my bed again.”

For a long, long moment, Steven made no sound. James’ expectations were confirmed though, when he heard the boy sigh and stand, and head for the door. James let his head rest against the back of the basin, eyes slipping shut. _“Will you bring”… “and salve”… “yes please. Thank you.”_ Steven could be heard murmuring to someone out in the corridor. Then the door closed again, but surprisingly Steven was still there. He returned to the floor behind James, and his hands came into view again.

James frowned in confusion. “What are you doing? I told you, you don’t have to—”

“Hush,” Steven said, quiet but firm. One of his hands moved to rest atop James’ shoulder. “I think, husband, that you have a habit of not sharing your thoughts freely.”

James huffed and parted his lips to argue this point, but found that he could not. He sulked lower in the water. “I… suppose not.”

“Hm.” Steven reached to grab a sea sponge from the floor. He dipped the sponge in the water and brought it to James’ back. “Then how are we to be happy?” he asked lightly. “Are we to always be guessing one another’s thoughts? Do you not care to know me?”

“I… what?”

Steven shushed him again, this time wiping the sponge slowly from one shoulder, across the back of his neck, and to the other. The touch made James shiver. Then he felt Steven’s lips at the back of his neck, kissing him there. James’ eyes sank closed at the feeling, his own lips parting as he breathed. “I want to know you, husband,” Steven whispered. “And I want to share your bed.”

James’ pulse sped up, his body heating at hearing the quiet admission—quiet, but brave. James dared to turn his head to the side, just bringing the edge of Steven’s face into his view. “Truly?”

Steven smiled, slow and sweet, like treacle. “Truly.” He bent and pressed his lips to the skin of James’ shoulder—his scarred one. Perhaps he noticed the way that it made James tense minutely, because he placed his hand there and squeezed the tiniest bit. “I will not hurt you, husband.” James was stiff a moment more, but after a long beat he relaxed back against the side of the tub. “That’s it,” Steven said, encouraging. “Relax. You’ve overexerted yourself.”

James sighed. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the boy’s fingers on his shoulder, of the warm water lapping around his body. “I’ve had far worse.”

Steven hummed and stood up. “Yes, your scars tell that story.” He walked across the room, apparently intercepting the servant, returned with the requested items. 

James didn’t bother opening his eyes until Steven had returned to his place by the tub. “They don’t bother you?” he asked him, trying not to sound like the answer mattered to him. 

“No,” he answered simply. His eyes returned to James’ body in the water and when they did, they roved over him freely. “I find you very pleasing, husband.” He blushed but didn’t look away. Slowly, he set down the items the servant had delivered and picked the sponge back up. He reached over James’ shoulders and used both hands to wet his chest, but his motions were far more about sensation than they were about getting him clean. “Does that feel good?” Steven asked quietly.

“Yes.” James had opened his eyes, couldn’t stop staring at the pale, wet skin of Steven’s fingers as they moved over his chest. “Yes. Very good.” In truth, he was hardening underneath the bathwater, but he didn’t know if Steven had noticed from his position behind him. James shifted in the water, increasingly aroused from the way his young husband was crowded up behind him, touching him so slowly. “What,” he licked his lips, “what are you doing?”

Steven’s lips on his shoulder could be felt splitting into a smile. James ached to be able to see it but instead he focused Steven’s breath against his skin, on those delicate hands of his. “I’m helping you to get clean, husband,” Steven teased. His tone almost made James want to turn and grab him and drag him into the water with him, but before he could so much as twitch, Steven was adding, “And you’re injured. I intend to soothe your hurt.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhm.” Steven continued washing him with the sponge, over his shoulders and chest, his shoulders and chest, and then lower; to his ribs, and then his stomach. And then lower still. James’ eyes widened minutely at the sight of the sponge bobbing away in the water, abandoned. A second later and he could feel Steven’s hand wrap around him. He gasped despite himself. Steven exhaled shakily next to his ear. “Does that feel good?”

James sighed, relaxing against the tub and into the feeling of his husband’s hand. “Of… of course it does.” He hissed as, beneath the water, Steven gave his cock a squeeze and drew his fist up in a firm pull. It was just the right amount of pressure and when he rubbed his fingers and twisted them against the head in a delightful way, James shuddered out his next breath. He tipped his head to the side and was met with the blue gaze of his husband. His blond eyelashes made him look like an angel. “I take it you’ve had practice with this much, at least?” James said.

Steven’s eyes widened only the barest bit, before crinkling in a smile. He looked flushed, whether from embarrassment or the bath steam or both, James couldn’t know. “Indeed,” Steven said lowly. He kept one hand below the water, still stroking James, but the other he brought up, trailing dripping fingers back up over James’ chest before cradling his jaw. Their mouths were so near each other’s now. James just breathed, open-mouthed, and waited to see what Steven would do. “Husband,” Steven said very quietly, not from shyness but rather because they were so close to one another. “Husband may I kiss you?”

James nearly laughed. “No,” he drawled. “I refuse. That’s far too personal.”

Steven seemed ready to believe him for the barest of seconds, before understanding dawned on his face. He frowned heavily and pulled James’ face against his then. James was taken aback, his lips parting in surprise just as Steven slotted their mouths together. He sighed, letting the boy kiss him while he jerked him off beneath the water at the same time. It was heaven, exquisite, the pleasure making James forget all about the stinging gash at his side.

That was until he tried to twist and reach up to touch Steven. He drew back sharply into the water with a hiss, and Steven pulled away, looking alarmed. “Husband?” 

“It’s nothing,” James grumbled, put-out at having been so suddenly distracted from the pleasure he’d been enjoying. Under the water, Steven’s hand was no longer touching him. “Just this infernal cut,” he grumped. “Hell if I ever get on a horse again.” It was a lie, James loved riding more than anything, but Steven paid him no mind.

“Come,” he said, standing and holding out his arms for James to take. “Get out of there so I can get you dried off and bind these wounds of yours.”

James grumbled about how they “weren’t worth binding” but he did listen, standing in the basin and even taking Steven’s hand to balance himself as he stepped over the tub’s high rim. Once he had both feet on the floor and stood there, dripping wet and naked, James drew some amusement from how his young husband couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his body, yet made no move to touch him. James was still hard from his previous attentions. “See something you like?” he asked lowly. “Or have you lost your nerve?”

Steven’s eyes shot up to his, wide, and then embarrassed. “What? I—no—I mean _yes_ but…” he trailed off as he could clearly see James’ smirk. Steven looked back down at the floor, where he bent to pick up the bandages that the servant had brought. “You shouldn’t tease someone who’s been so little in the company of a husband.” His eyes flicked back up to James, still lustful but now a little peevish as well. “I’d not seen someone naked until you, after all.” He turned and grabbed the towel and handed it to James. “Dry off then come to bed.”

James was taken-aback and frankly impressed with his husband. The boy clearly wasn’t one to be pushed around by mirthless teasing, though that’d hardly been James’ goal. Feeling abashed, he toweled himself off and then went to the next room where Steven had disappeared. Steven patted the bed’s coverlet, indicating that James should join him. He did. “I wasn’t trying to offend,” James said carefully. “I thought…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. “Well you were the one who came in and stuck your hand in my bathwater,” he argued. 

Steven blushed and nodded. “Yes, I suppose I did do that.” He reached and put his hand atop James’ thigh, near his cock but not moving any closer. He squeezed him lightly. “I want you. That way.” James sighed and moved to turn into him, but Steven pushed him back. “Bandages first,” he said. 

James merely groaned. He did, however, sit still and allow Steven to apply some salve to his torn skin, and he obediently lifted his arms so that the boy could apply a dressing and wind cloth around his torso twice, properly bandaging him. When it was all done and Steven was setting the things aside, James watched him thoughtfully. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Steven snorted. “It’s hardly physician’s work, wrapping a man in bandages.”

“But you knew what to ask the servants for,” James pressed. “That’s medicine. Not exactly the study for a high-born man.”

Steven sighed but relented, admitting, “My mother was knowledgeable about such things. She thought it useful to teach me.”

“So you are a physician then.” 

“Hardly. But I could probably stitch you up again if it came to it,” Steven admitted.

James was impressed, he was sure it showed on his face. He was also sure he didn’t want to feel a needle in his skin again. Carefully, he eased himself back into the middle of the bed, reclining against the mound of pillows that was there. Steven watched him move, and without saying a word, he crawled up to sit beside him. James felt his lips twitch at the sight the two of them made. “You are very pretty, Lord Rogers.”

Steven blushed and looked down at his knees. “Lord Barnes now, I think.”

“Ah, yes. True.” James held out his hand, pleased when Steven saw and did not hesitate to take it in his own. “I feel at a disadvantage,” James said. “Here I lay, maimed and naked, and you still dressed.” That brought a smile to Steven’s lips, which made James glad he had said it. “Will you join me?” he asked gently, rubbing his thumb into the palm of Steven’s hand. “Your attentions earlier have not been forgotten.” He glanced meaningfully down to his lap, where his cock lay, still fattened some against his thigh. “I would like to continue.”

Steven shivered but nodded. “Yes.” 

James let his eyes rove over Steven’s body as he stood and undressed. When he climbed back onto the bed and made to lay down, James reached for him, shaking his head and guiding him to kneel over his lap instead. “I would have you like this,” James told him quietly, helping Steven to settle into sitting against his thighs. He brought his face forward so that he could kiss him in the tenderest of ways, their lips brushing and connecting lightly, over and over. The way that Steven sighed into it and sought out with his tongue after a while made James’ blood pulse hotter. He allowed Steven into his mouth just once, and then he pulled away. “My,” he said, “I do love your spirit when you forget to be shy.”

Steven blushed at the praise and looked down between their bodies, where James was hard and Steven himself growing harder. “Shall I touch us?” Steven asked breathily. “Together?”

James hummed, loving that idea. But he shook his head. “No,” he grunted. “Get your jar of oil and give it to me.”

Steven obeyed, leaving for only seconds before he was clamoring back into James’ lap and pressing the jar into his hand. He watched with eager eyes as James unscrewed the lid and dipped his fingers within. When he drew them out and they shined against the low candlelight of the room, Steven sighed. “Husband,” he breathed, unable to say any more before James had his hand wrapped around both of them at the same time. His hips shot forward and he cried out lowly. 

“Shh,” James hushed him, though he was sure he felt the pleasure of it just as keenly. He wrapped his free arm around Steven’s back, drawing his body closer. “Here, watch us,” James instructed. He waited until Steven’s eyes were firmly fixed on the two of them in his hand, and then he squeezed and drew his hand up and down in a long, tight pull. Steven’s groan came at the same moment his did, the sounds mixing together between them. 

“Oh, oh James that feels so good. Your hand. It’s so good,” Steven panted, hips thrusting lightly into the grasp James had on both of them. When James next glanced up, he could see that Steven’s eyes were closed tight and his face screwed up in pleasure.

“Open your eyes,” he told him. “I want you to watch.”

But Steven just squeezed his eyes tighter and shook his head desperately. “I can’t. I’m too close. I’ll come.” James smiled in affection for his young husband. He would have teased him about being so close already, but Steven had shown that he wouldn’t tolerate jibes to his so recently-lost virginity. So James held his tongue. Instead, he released them both from his grasp, relaxing back into the bedcovers. Steven immediately cried out in protest, eyes shooting open at the loss. “What?” he said. “Why?”

James laughed but he soothed him with a hand running up and down his flank. “I don’t want this to be over so quickly,” he told him. “I want it to last.”

Steven frowned in the sweetest of ways. “Well then what will we do?” he asked, sounding nearly petulant. James pondered over it for a long moment, letting his eyes rake up and down his young husband’s body. He wanted to pleasure him, he realized suddenly. With his mouth. James smiled and sank down further into the pillows, wiggling to get his body flat on the bed. Steven laughed at nearly being toppled off by his motions and steadied himself by planting his hands on James’ chest. Once James was laying flat and staring up at him, Steven asked, “Well?”

“Come up my body. Kneel over my face,” James husked. He got a thorough amount of enjoyment out of watching how that statement made Steven’s face bleed from amusement, to confusion, to dark, _dark_ arousal. 

“Oh,” he breathed, then licked his lips as he rose onto his knees. “Okay.” He shuffled up until his cock was nearly at James’ face and looked down with lust-blown eyes. “You’re going to?”

James leered up at him. He could tell that Steven thought he was going to suck his cock. “Not quite,” he said, then he hooked his forearms behind Steven’s knees and hauled him up even further to get his ass right above his face. Steven gasped and fell forward, clutching at the headboard as James’ mouth found him.

“What? _Ohmygod_.” His breath hitched in his throat as James licked out against his entrance, and James could _hear_ how his fingernails curled against the wood of the headboard. “Oh, husband, you mustn’t,” Steven complained, squirming above him but not moving away. “No, no you…” his protests, meager as they were, cut off with a gasp of pleasure when James dug his fingers into the skin of his thighs and _sucked_ him. “Oh, fuck!”

James grunted against Steven’s flesh, kissing and licking at his asshole with fervor. His young husband clearly enjoyed it, if his panting breaths and curses were anything to go by. And even if he hadn’t had those reassurances, James still would’ve known by the way that Steven practically rode his face that he was enjoying himself. James continued pleasuring him that way for a long while, until he noticed that Steven had brought one hand down to stroke himself off as well. James pulled away and pushed Steven back down his body. Steven whined more than ever at the loss, and James found that he had to soothe him with sweet noises and pets to his body. “Don’t be like that, darling boy. I’m going to make you feel good, you’ll see.”

Steven settled back to where he’d been before, sitting in James’ lap. He still had a hand on himself, though it had ceased its stroking. James didn’t miss how his eyes kept flicking over to where the pot of oil sat on the bedcovers. “Go ahead,” James said. “Take some. Touch yourself with it.” Steven’s eyes got hot and he nodded in agreement, reaching for the jar and dipping his fingers inside. He hesitated when he reached back for his cock though. He looked at James. James nodded and petted at the skin of his hips. “Open yourself for me. Let me watch you.”

Steven swallowed heavily, and when his lips parted again, it was with a sigh. “Okay,” he breathed, sounding about as aroused as James himself felt. Slowly, he lifted up on his knees. He reached back and began to touch himself. James held him by the hips and watched his face, and he could tell by the boy’s expression exactly when he’d sunk a finger into himself. 

“Feel good?” he asked him, unable to look away from the incredible sight of the boy above him. “Hm?”

“It’s…” Steven scrunched his face, focusing. “It’s good. Strange. I like it better when you do it.”

James swallowed heavily at that, his cock pulsing where it lay forgotten. He reached with one hand to press it against his stomach, hissing at the pleasure. “Use two fingers when you’re ready,” he told him softly.

Steven just huffed, mouth quirking at the edge. “I already am.”

 _God_ , if James didn’t have to close his eyes for a moment at hearing that. When he opened them again he could see that Steven wasn’t looking away. He was staring down at him as he knelt there, straddling him and reaching behind to touch himself. “Shall I use three?” he asked, sounding breathless. James surged up and kissed him, arms wrapping around his middle to hold him fast. Steven squealed and pulled away in protest, shoving James back down by the chest. “You’re an invalid!” he scolded him, though his face was smiling widely from James’ attack. It was clear that Steven knew exactly what his show was doing to his poor husband. “And you haven’t answered my question,” Steven said, going back to moving his fingers maddingly out of sight. “Shall,” he panted a little, lips parting as he worked himself open, “I use three?”

“Fuck.” James groaned and dug his palms into his eyes. “Yes. Yes use three. Don’t want to hurt you.” When he put his hands back down and could see Steven, he saw that he was looking at him with a fond expression. “What?” he said. “What’s that look for?”

Steven brought his hand back around. The fingers were still slick with oil but he paid no attention to it. He propped himself up, both hands on James’ chest. “You’re really convinced that you hurt me badly last night, aren’t you?”

James frowned despite himself. “Well… yes.”

Steven huffed and sunk down, tapping his forehead lightly against James’ shoulder before sitting back up straight and regarding him meaningfully. “I’m _fine_ ,” he told him. “Yes, I was sore this morning. But it got better. I came prepared for _some_ discomfort.”

James frowned. “Prepared?”

“My governor has more than just advice. He gave me some Valerian root to sprinkle in my cup. It relaxes the body you know.”

James’ eyes widened in realization. He huffed, not able to keep from smiling. “I know what it does, thank you very much.”

“So you’ll let me take your cock now, yes?”

James nearly choked on his own spit at the boy’s brazen words. “I—yes,” he said. 

Steven bit his lip, though it hardly hid his smile. He looked devilish, a look which James found he very much liked. He reached to hold Steven by his hips, grabbing him there and enjoying the possessive feeling of it. “Go on,” he husked, eyes hooded as he watched Steven lift back up, his slicked hand disappearing behind himself as he reached to line James’ cock up with his entrance. The sight was incredible and had arousal spiking hot through James’ blood. He groaned before he even felt the tip of his cock meet the boy’s entrance, and when he did, when Steven eased himself down and James slid into his body, his lips parted in a gasp. “ _Oh, god_.” His eyes slipped shut, quickly re-opening in regret of losing sight of the beauty that was his husband slowly sinking down onto his cock. His gasp bled out, becoming one long, shuddery exhale. Steven was so, so tight. So warm. “You feel—”

“Yes,” Steven hissed, agreeing with him. If he felt any discomfort now, his features didn’t show it. They showed only pleasure. His brow was pinched with it, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “So good,” Steven said. “So full.”

James was sure his fingers would leave bruises from how hard they were gripping Steven, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not right then. When the boy was fully-settled on his cock, he finally opened his eyes and looked down at him. “Oh,” he breathed, looking overwhelmed. “I’m still not used to this.” James huffed through a laugh, and the way that it moved his cock within Steven made him gasp. He looked down at James with heated eyes. “I’m not sure I know what to do.”

“You just move,” James told him, using his grip on the boy’s hips to guide him up. “Ride me. Like that, yes.” He let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Take your pleasure from me.” Steven looked very shocked by this, but only for the barest of seconds. Soon, he was doing what James had told him, raising and lowering himself in a slow and unsure rhythm. James guided him with his hands, but he let Steven find the pace and the angle that felt best to him. It was when James bent his knees off the bed some and braced with his feet that Steven gasped suddenly and his hands shot forward to balance himself on James’ chest. James paused. “Bad?”

Steven’s eyes were squeezed shut, but he shook his head. “Good,” he said. “So good. Please, don’t move.” He shifted his hips in another slow grind atop James and James groaned.

“I won’t fight you on that, little lord. You look exquisite up there. Could watch you all day.”

Steven’s eyes peeked open, perhaps annoyed at the diminutive. If he was, the emotion didn’t hold. Soon he was rocking forward again, hissing in pleasure and repeating the motion, again and again, until he’d set a fast, almost desperate rhythm. “Oh, oh, oh,” he cried out, making small sounds that were needy and made James’ blood boil. Steven’s noises and his pinched little faces and the look of his slim body up there, taking his pleasure atop him, made James want to do nothing more than flip the other man over and rut into him, desperate and selfish. But he held off. His hands grabbed the boy’s hips and dug in hard enough to hurt, and he thrust up to meet Steven’s rocking motions when he could, but otherwise it was all Steven, seeking his release and bringing James closer with the clench and sight of his body.

When Steven reached for his cock to stroke himself, James batted his hand away and closed his fist around him instead. The cry that it earned him was tortured, making James grit his teeth in pleasure. _God_ , but he wanted to come, but he would bring the boy off first. He’d promised him pleasure and he’d deliver on that promise. He tightened his fingers around him. Lingering slick from the oil made it easy, and James fisted him without grace, harshly enough that he knew the boy would orgasm soon. Above him, Steven ground his hips down wildly, crying out louder and sharper than before. Then he froze, grunting from deep in his chest, and he silenced as his body tensed and clenched. James’ vision swam with how tightly the boy pulsed around him, even as he could feel Steven’s release spilling over his fingers. Steven gasped, inhaling in a great heave, and then his body collapsed forward. 

James caught him up in his hands, kissing him lewdly and with all the passion he felt built up from their sex. He flipped him where they lay, making Steven squeak and enjoying the noise. A pain came at James’ side from the rough movements, but he ignored it in favor of pushing back inside Steven’s body and watching as his mouth dropped open at the feeling. He dipped, kissed him again, and then kept him held down in the bedsheets until he found his own completion. 

.oOo.

The next day, the physician was summoned up to Lord Barnes’ chambers. He stood and listened as the Lord and his new husband sheepishly explained the reason for the continued bleeding in his side. Unimpressed, the physician re-stitched the wound and ordered a week’s refrain from all exertions, including “marital activities.”

James and Steven shared a private glance and a laugh as the man left them alone in their room, and they clasped hands. “Ah well,” Steven mourned. “Now we shall simply have to get to know one another, I suppose.”

James sighed in mock-annoyance. “It would appear so.”

They kissed, and all was well.


End file.
